


For Love or Science

by Queen_of_the_Ruckus



Series: Fun With Friends [4]
Category: Noblesse (Manhwa)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Blood Drinking, Blow Jobs, Cock Ring, Double Anal Penetration, Double Penetration in Two Holes, Hand Jobs, Hermaphrodite Ragar, M/M, Modern Ragar AU, Multi, Porn with Feelings, Smut, Threesome - M/M/M, Vaginal Fingering, Vibrators
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-29
Updated: 2020-08-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:08:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25597066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Queen_of_the_Ruckus/pseuds/Queen_of_the_Ruckus
Summary: Ragar, with the aid of the internet, stumbles upon the solution to a problem that's been bothering him for centuries.And really, what self-respecting research scientist *wouldn't* be intrigued by an impossible re-configuration of human anatomy?
Relationships: Frankenstein/Ragar Kertia, Frankenstein/Ragar Kertia/Cadis Etrama Di Raizel
Series: Fun With Friends [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1624360
Comments: 12
Kudos: 36





	1. Ragar Kertia Does Not Clear His Search History (Futanari Hentai Small Titties)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [escspace](https://archiveofourown.org/users/escspace/gifts).



> My half of the fic trade, and only 4 months late! ･_･ (For esc's half, please see 'Carnivore'. Is good stuff.)
> 
> More notes to follow chapter 3. Next part will be uploaded tomorrow. <3

"It really is a shame about the mask, Ragar. Wouldn't you like to take both Master and myself at once?" 

Frankenstein had once whispered those words teasingly against the shell of his ear, deft fingers ghosting over dark fabric to trace the outline of his open lips. Only Ragar’s pride as a clan leader kept him from pulling it down in that moment, and before he could begin to allow himself to be swayed by such thoughts, those devilish fingers were already touching him elsewhere, favoring bare skin to cloth.

"But unfortunately it seems there's only one place available. And it is already being used."

He proceeded to shove himself in anyway, joining Sir Raizel in filling him to such an extent that it drove Ragar almost beyond the bounds of his own control on the spot, pain abruptly lacing his pleasure. They moved within him with such astounding friction and coordination that he soon lost track of himself. It was all _too much_. And when Frankenstein’s hand snaked around slim hips to stroke him further, he let himself go completely, spurting white across Sir Raizel's bare stomach. 

Ragar was reminded of it now and again. The intimacy and the overwhelming fullness of holding two lovers at once.

  
And now, staring at the soft glow of the computer screen, the memory once again resurfaces. The illustrated figures before him seem to hold the answer to the conundrum that Frankenstein once posed. The solution to that and more. For while they had been able to force things despite his lack of accommodating spaces, this idea strikes Ragar as being so much _better._


	2. Frankenstein’s First Love (Is His Lab)

Elevator doors slide smoothly open and Ragar steps boldly into the clean white lab, his long ponytail swaying gracefully in opposite time with his hips. His scan of the room is brief; Frankenstein is hunched over a modest desk towards the center of the room. It’s the first time anyone’s laid eyes on him in nearly half a week, and Ragar has already searched through three basement floors to find him.

His friend motions him over without looking up from his work. Long hair spills over his shoulders, covering his face like a veil as he bends over a tablet, tapping away while absently turning a vial in the long gloved fingers of his free hand. 

The lab is brightly lit, the vial glinting like a star. Frankenstein’s luminous golden glow fills Ragar's eyes. 

He swallows, his body still intriguingly unfamiliar to him. Anticipation rises to flutter deep in his stomach. Sir Raizel is already waiting for them, the quiet Noblesse drawn away from the window at his request. Now all that remains is to retrieve Frankenstein from his lab.

Resisting the urge to shuffle and fidget against his clothes out of sheer novelty, Ragar waits at Frankenstein’s side, respectful of his need to finish up. Appraising red eyes sweep the usual assortment of experimental equipment, the faintly whirring machines with their myriad colored lights, the empty examination tables, to linger over some rather detailed information on Sir Raizel splashed across a large glossy screen. 

He blinks and looks quickly elsewhere, suddenly self-conscious. He does not mean to pry, and he certainly does not wish to interrupt something so vastly important.

Pulled from the realm of his own frivolous designs, Ragar’s breath catches. The faint feeling of Sir Raizel emanates from the vial in Frankenstein’s grasp, his movements not absent as first assumed but meticulously measured. Mixing the blood of the Noblesse with something _else_.

Ragar averts his gaze from such a taboo sight. Embarrassment at his own intrusion colors his face scarlet, clearly visible over the top of his mask if anyone were to look. Nodding farewell to his preoccupied friend, he swifty retreats.

Only to have his wrist caught, his progress stopped short. 

“Leaving already? This will need to sit for a while, I’m almost done.” Frankenstein releases him to delicately seat the vial in a rack with both hands. When at last he looks back up at Ragar, it is with a small bit of excitement, his lips quirked optimistically upwards. “There. I think-- Well, we’ll see in a little while, won’t we. Anyway, your timing is good! I could use another sample for my control group, if you’re amenable.”

“Of course.” Ragar nods, spirits growing buoyant once more. Frankenstein’s good mood is contagious, for all that it is rare.

In a flash, his own data replaces Raizel’s upon the screen. A new sample number is entered, its purpose logged away in the notes. Ragar holds out his arm from where he has seated himself on an exam table, his sleeve pushed carefully back. 

His brow creases as his sample is drawn. Not from the sting of the hypodermic needle, but because his own information has caught his attention, something like a grain of sand digging at the back of his brain. And then it clicks. “Frankenstein… I do not know if this matters, but I am not classified as ‘male’.”

“Hm?” Blue eyes scour Ragar quickly, drinking in his details. Apparently finding nothing to corroborate this statement, Frankenstein finishes the draw before addressing it further. "You mean because you’re able to change sex? That _is_ a factor, but it's a trait you share with Master so it's acceptable."

"No, I mean…," Ragar trails off, mildly distressed at giving away his surprise earlier than intended. Then he shifts a little straighter on the table, disappointment appropriately tucked away, wearing solemnity like his mask. "I am currently both male and female."

" _Oh_?" The change in Frankenstein is small, but far from subtle. His face tilts, locks of hair drifting over his face and casting shadows. Blue like the sky hardens into something icy and bright. Cold, but no less captivating. "In that case, would you mind if I had a look?" 

Gloved fingers ghost over the tightness in Ragar's pants as Frankenstein leans closer, blocking out the light. 

Ragar swallows in spite of himself, feeling himself grow wet and tight, his cock rising up obediently. The first touch after so much anticipation sets him off in more ways than one. He gives his consent with a single nod, already biting at his lip as Frankenstein lays him firmly down. 

"You know, it's been a _while_ since I've had a noble on my table." Ragar's pulse picks up at Frankenstein’s teasing smile, no less excited for the sudden flicker of unease. And then the gap between them is gone, Franken claiming his eager mouth through the barrier of fine, wet cloth.

Knowing hands slide deftly down his frame, searching with a painful sort of attentiveness and care. Impatience is unfamiliar to Ragar; he cannot name the reason why he squirms and moans almost imperceptibly with want. His own hands claw at the crisp white coat, pulling his companion closer even as Frankenstein moves down and away. The strangely alien feel of nitrile rubber graces his skin as strong hands slip under his clothes, drawing his shirt up before removing black boots.

"Wait here a moment." 

Ragar opens eyes he hadn’t realized had been shut, anticipation souring for a moment before his friend returns with a bottle of lubricant. With such a promising omen, Ragar arches easily into Frankenstein’s renewed touches, eagerly allowing his remaining clothes to be stripped from his body. 

Frankenstein stops at the mask, leaving the dark fabric of his shirt pulled up high enough to expose an ivory chest and cute pink nipples, one of which he gives a cursory nip. “Now tell me, Ragar. Did you come all the way down here just to get laid? Or did you alter yourself like this to arouse my curiosity?” 

He drizzles lube generously over a gloved hand, gaze fixed unwavering on sultry red. Ragar's gentle flush betrays his answer. “I came to bring you back upstairs.”

"I _see_." At this he draws Ragar open, toned legs spreading easily at the merest suggestion of a touch. 

Fingers trace along his length, drift down across pink lips, lingering for far too short a time only to breeze teasingly past. Gently circling his usual place, instead. "And are you hoping to use all of these at once?" Frankenstein’s tone is slightly rough, for all that he would like to appear unaffected. 

Ragar almost huffs in his frustration at being put off in such a way, wanting so badly to be filled, to be fingered, to be _fucked_! And then he arches, breath suddenly forced from his lungs, as Franken shoves four slick fingers into his ass all at once. 

He twists and teases and coaxes at artificially slick walls, attending almost cruelly to the usual place inside and entirely ignoring what is new. "You kept _that_ , I see. A good choice, but greedy."

His companion cannot help but arch as his favorite spot is caressed so knowingly, eyes shut tight as he fervently wishes for more while attempting to savor what he is so sweetly given. Another hand slides down tightly over his cock and Ragar lets himself go. Generously, and hopeful of more. 

Spent but not yet close to being satisfied, Ragar’s eyes open once again. A trail of glistening wet sullies the pristine exam table, Frankenstein bent over and observing his body with interest. "You can still cum so much when you've gotten rid of _those._ " Gloved hands caress the base of his cock and Ragar can almost feel the phantom pressure on his missing balls; a vulnerable feeling, though he is safe and comfortable in Frankenstein’s hands. "So you've left the other parts intact?"

And then that softly sharp mouth is upon him again, and there is no room to dwell on the parts that he's abandoned. His untouched pussy is dripping with wet. His belly clenches strangely inside, almost sore for his want despite having been spent in other ways. 

Frankenstein swallows his cock down to the hilt, the hot press of his throat already teasing Ragar stiff again, the broad slick tongue working at him mercilessly. Slicked fingers coax at his ass before slipping in once more, opening him up more carefully this time. 

Ragar shifts slightly, biting at his lip in silent pleasure. _Greedy_. Frankenstein’s accusation may very well be the truth as all he can think about is the maddening neglect, the pooling wet touched by the cold lab air and nothing else.

A single gloved finger traces across him lightly and Ragar stops moving altogether, anticipation gripping him. Frankenstein smiles around his cock, releasing him with a lewd squelch to better observe his friend’s reactions. 

A second finger now, and Franken slowly presses against smooth labia. Ragar squirms against them in his impatience, spreading his legs wider and pressing down as much as he is able, deft fingers still working furiously inside him elsewhere. 

He struggles faintly and in vain, his view of Frankenstein’s hands blocked out by his own erection. Glancing up in the hopes of reading Franken’s intentions on his face, Ragar finds that he has been waiting for this. He glares into such an utterly conceited look, a silent admonition for this frustrating treatment.

With a smirk, Frankenstein finally gives him what he wants. Gloved fingers slide smoothly inside, filling and pressing and teasing at taut and achingly wet walls. The aggressive onslaught does not end until the exam table is further covered in cum, wet now splattering the cuff of Frankenstein’s lab coat.

In Ragar’s calm, Franken continues to feel around with interest. 

"You've made quite a mess." Frankenstein slips his fingers further inside, searching, his movements now cold and methodic. 

Ragar is roused by this, and even more so by a sudden emptiness as his companion withdraws, abandoning him outright. His blue eyes are fixed downward with disdain. "Look, you've gotten my sleeve wet." 

Frankenstein changes out his spent lab coat and gloves, donning a fresh set with the casual, practiced ease of a neurotic clinician. His lips are turned faintly down into a sneer now, his gaze almost predatory. 

"Oh, Ragar." Frankenstein's attention returns to him. His hand traces a soft line down Ragar's belly, his bright eyes distantly reviewing the possibilities of what might lie beneath smooth contours. "But really, what you don’t know about human anatomy would fill several books, and I find myself _terribly_ curious." 

Abruptly Ragar finds it difficult to swallow, his body growing tense even as he responds again to the touch.

“I would like to explore this further." Long fingers gently map out additional incision points, sharp eyes going misty. "I would numb you. You wouldn't feel any pain, only a slight amount of pressure. We could stop at any time. Will you permit it?"

Suddenly feeling a bit ill, Ragar is no longer certain of what he wants. Franken’s attention keeps him aching despite the chill in his stomach.

Frankenstein reaches into a sleek metal cabinet, drawing out a tray and laying it down almost lovingly. A graceful hand hovers over surgical tools as he waits for Ragar's response. His eyes now speak of ravenous curiosity, sterile gloves as blue as his gaze. 

Swallowing back the sour taste of bile, Ragar considers the request carefully, weighs it against the depth of his own discomfort and the favor he can do for his friend. In much less time than it would have taken Sir Raizel to select between two types of tea, Ragar has nodded his consent. 

His reward is a grin that could rival the summer sun for its brilliance.

"Hmm, don't worry. I won't numb _these_ ," he offers around his wolfish smile. A playful touch at Ragar’s pussy, and then Frankenstein is already drawing a clear solution from a chilled glass vial. 

Suddenly, Frankenstein straightens, his eyes wide with shock and his hands held out before him with the air of having been caught in the act.

A moment passes in silence. Ragar blinks at his companion in mild confusion and concern, his heartbeat the only sound in his ears.

The look Frankenstein gives him is one of betrayal. "Ragar, you didn't tell me Master was waiting!!" 

And just like that, the scientist in him is gone, tucked away. He hoists his companion bodily from the table, ripping off gloves and dumping neatly folded pants onto Ragar's lap.


	3. Telepaths Were Meant to Double Team

Frankenstein bows low before his Master, Ragar following suit before his defender and judge. 

“Apologies, I did not intend to make you wait.”

“It is fine.” Raizel’s gaze is searching, noting with care the shift in his Bonded’s mood and observing Ragar attentively. He would not insult the noble by asking if he was alright, no more than he would punish his Bonded for an act he had not committed. 

“Would you care for more tea, Sir?”

Raizel shakes his head gently and steps to the side, gaze shifting instead to a careful arrangement of sex toys laid out on the edge of the bed. 

Ragar blinks as he straightens, suddenly wondering to what extent he has lost track of time. For Sir Raizel to have made so many choices… 

He glances over to find his own suspicions mirrored in the look on Frankenstein’s pale face. Sir Raizel is careful, and Frankenstein’s inventions are many and varied. He must have been alone for quite a while.

Raizel colors slightly at the lengthy silence, his companions easy to read despite his own efforts to ignore such unstated emotions. “We are here at Ragar’s request,” he reminds them softly, gaze centering firmly on Ragar.

“Yes, Master. Of course.” Frankenstein’s focus shifts to their companion as well, blue eyes narrowing mischievously. His smile is predatory and sharp. 

***

Ragar does not know how much time has passed, the window having been covered quite carefully by Frankenstein not long after the start. 

He does not know how many times he has cum, though the vibrator in his pussy has been pushed back in more than once for an excess of wet.

The ample toy stuffed in his ass is set to vibrate in opposite time with the other, his body singing with tension and pleasure. Filled as he was craving, though not in the way that he had wished.

Sir Raizel’s kisses are slow and deep, the fabric of Ragar’s mask now drenched in the faint memory of sweetness and tea. He swallows, eager for more. Craving it, almost. 

Ragar reaches up to pull down black cloth only to have his wrist caught in Sir Raizel’s delicate hold before he can get to it, his arm shifted, held down firmly above his head without any resistance. He would never dream of struggling, would never hope to escape his Noblesse, as much as he might want for more.

Then Ragar gasps, only to have his breath swallowed up by Sir Raizel, his tongue slipping in with a languishing slowness. Frankenstein has taken hold of the toy in his pussy, now twisting and thrusting it in with punishing persistence, spurred on by the sight of such action from his Master.

Neither allows him room to collect himself, and Ragar is soon spurting white across such soft and flawless sheets, already well stained and sticky from the hours they’ve been at their play.

When the world again resolves itself before his eyes, Ragar is met with the sight of Frankenstein’s hand, bare this time, hovering thoughtfully over the remaining toys that Raizel had laid out. “While you’re being greedy…” He slips an elegant golden ring down over Ragar’s spent cock, following it with the warm wet of his own mouth, coaxing him eagerly back up. 

He slips back off of that velvet tongue in far too short a time, Frankenstein wickedly running a soft parting touch along his tip. His mouth slips open, gasping freely at the unlikely increase in feeling.

Franken eyes Ragar’s overly swollen cock almost hungrily, before snapping his attention back to Raizel. In a few beats of a heart, Franken has looked away again, eyes alive with excitement. “Are you not satisfied, Ragar?” His voice is a velvety torment. 

Slowly, pointedly, Frankenstein rakes a single sharp nail down the inside of Ragar’s thigh, drawing blood and an arching shiver from Ragar’s lithe form. Franken rests his chin against Ragar's leg, eyeing him playfully. “Will you permit it? ...It would only be for a little while,” he finishes in a whisper.

Understanding comes to him then, Sir Raizel’s silent communication and the significance of spilt blood. Ragar nods his consent before the shallow wound has fully begun to knit.

He shudders, first at the delicate lick - warm and then cold against his skin - and then as his spirit is overwhelmed, awash in the combined warmth of Frankenstein and _Sir Raizel_. 

_What is it that I want?_ Ragar repeats the wordless question to himself. A short stream of images, some imagined, some remembered, surfaces unbidden, honest and unabridged. 

Reeling and dazed from his companions’ presence within him, he hardly registers that his feet are now planted on the floor, that he has been coaxed into standing. The toys no longer fill him, but this knowledge is somewhat removed as the Noblesse’s presence inside his soul has numbed him like a sedative. His Frankenstein soothes him even as he turns his body around.

The warm red of Sir Raizel’s gaze is hypnotic. He pulls the unresisting Ragar down on top of him, coming to rest only partially on the bed.

Possessed of enough of his senses now to remember how to fuck, Ragar gathers his knees up beneath him, his hands framing Sir Raizel’s hair as it lies splayed out across the sheets. Gentle fingers open him up, and he lowers himself down, Raizel sinking deep into his wet and well-attended pussy.

Ragar shudders just from that, the warmth and closeness already eclipsing the artificial fullness he’s experienced these past delirious hours. Moments slip away before he remembers that he can move about on his own.

To slide up and down just so is a near spiritual experience, his soul flooded as it is with such attention and care. The pleasure he feels is not just his own - is nothing so small as that.

Strong arms wrap around, embracing him from behind, soft lips and sharp teeth at his neck. Ragar stops short and savors, unable to think but only to feel as Frankenstein slips inside of him as well.

A gentle nip reminds him of his place, and Ragar eagerly resumes his movements, fucking himself deeply on them both, filling himself up with their enjoyment. The roll of his hips alternates between both Frankenstein and Raizel, their pleasure and the way they feel inside of him radiating between all three, just as his own emotions and experiences are generously shared. 

He bucks and writhes at the feel of them inside of him, at the way they rub and press against one another through the thin wall in between. His soul sings, is briefly sated. The pull of his body is almost distant, even as he is sensitive and full and flush. 

And somehow there is still a small thrum of want.

_Greed._

He must indeed be greedy to wish for a lover to attend to his cock as well, even as he is filled in his soul and so achingly full in body. He will not do it himself, his hands now running lovingly over Sir Raizel's smooth skin. Raizel, who he would never choose to neglect. 

Frankenstein smiles into his neck, his wet hands shifting to stroke vigorously at Ragar's cock, sensitive and plump and already dripping. He rises up, thrusting sweetly, honestly into Franken's hand, even as he fucks himself on them both with every descent. 

Raizel finishes as one with Ragar, spilling himself deep inside, as his own body is generously marked in turn. Ragar, filled and trailing warm wet, shudders against him, body pressed close and lying still. 

Frankenstein follows a few short moments after, utterly losing himself in his companions' pleasure and taking only a couple more thrusts for himself. 

Spent at last and comfortable, Franken helps ease them all up further onto the bed, settling Ragar against his Master before disappearing into the private bath. When he returns, he is already clean. Careful hands run a plush warm washcloth over the pair of nobles. Patiently, lovingly. 

Roused slightly from his euphoria, Ragar gathers enough will to sit up for a moment, but the rush of warmth and reassurance in his soul has him lying back and yielding easily to Frankenstein’s attention. _To clean is catharsis_. Ragar sighs to feel this radiated within himself. 

Soft touches at his thigh and Frankenstein lingers carefully over the place where his skin had been cut, checking delicately over what has already healed, even as the shared link quiets and fades. 

When at last the toys have all been cleaned and tucked away, Ragar is satisfied to see his friend crawl sleepily into bed, already relaxed and comfortable. In all the days that he'd been downstairs working, surely he had not slept. 

Raizel smiles against his shoulder from where they are curled together. Franken sighs a little as he snuggles into Ragar, wrapping an arm around them both to thread his fingers through Raizel's dark hair. 

The connection flickers out like a candle, the tight press of bodies still lending him warmth. 

It is not like nobles to sleep, and even less like them to dream. Tonight, Ragar is claimed by both. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Some hermaphrodite Ragar with dual penetration, Frankenstein, and a cock ring. Ragar gets cuddles at the end.
> 
> This fic was inspired by the hermaphrodite Ragar entries in escspace's NSFW sketches. (Chapters 25, 26, 27, 28, and 30, if you haven't already seen them. Though if you're reading this, odds are decent that you have.) 
> 
> Also takes inspiration from vivisection entry in the 'pornography' anthology. Set after 'Musings of the Madly Loved' and 'Petite Best Friend', but before ‘Orchid Club’.
> 
>   
> *Edit:  
> [Please check out escspace's lovely illustration for this chapter. <3 ](https://escshow.tumblr.com/post/625314099760332800/it-is-not-like-nobles-to-sleep-and-even-less-like)


End file.
